Curiouser & Curiouser
by Blonde Gingernut
Summary: Tim B's Alice in Wonderland. I didn't like the ending of the film, so here's one of my versions. Alice leaves Wonderland after boldly showing Hatter how she feels. Upon leaving the rabbit hole, she finds that she didn't come home alone... Read&Review Ty x
1. Chapter 1

**Ok. I'm going to do two fanfictions based on Tim Burton's Alice In Wonderland. Two alternative endings I wanted. Both begin after the slaying of the Jabberwocky. And I have to say, I am thrilled right now that 'Jabberwocky' is in Microsoft Word's dictionary :D**

_**Curiouser and Curiouser. **_

I clutched the vial of the Jabberwocky's blood tightly, my thumb positioned under the lid to flip it open and leave the peculiar Wonderland. The idea of staying flitted out of my mind like a butterfly… like Absolem. It wasn't going to happen. I'd seen some odd wonders here, but I had a lot to do at home. A real life, one that I _knew_ was real. Cool breath fanned my skin, ghosting across my cheek. I drew in a sharp breath, and froze completely. "You don't have to go," Hatter whispered, though the doubt was there. He knew I had to go.

"Oh, but I do." I sighed, turning to look at him wistfully. "My mother needs me, and I need to decline Hamish's offer, and I need to carry on from my father." I swallowed, and blinked away the possibility of tears. "I've done all I was required to here. I don't _belong_ Hatter." I murmured.

"You _can_ belong, my friend." He sighed, his face dropping. As quickly as the gloom appeared, it faded, being replaced with an ecstatic smile, melancholy forgotten in a muddled mind.

"Hatter… why is a raven like a writing desk?"

"I haven't the slightest idea," He grinned. A silence passed, and he looked pointedly down at the purple vial, raising his eyebrows. "We'll miss you."

I turned and looked at everyone. The White Queen raised a hand to her heart and pouted sadly, sighing deeply. Everyone was waving, or smiling; the White Rabbit even had his handkerchief out. I smiled in response, and turned back to The Mad Hatter. "Whatever you want to do," He shrugged, and tipped his hat slightly.

I stared at him, even after he looked away. He knew what I would pick, and though it wasn't what he, or all the others wanted, they accepted it. This crazy, bemusing, _mad_ Hatter who had a mind stranger than my own, and I was leaving him. Leaving them all. "I can come back," I said, though it sounded like a plea.

"You'll forget." He smiled.

"How can I forget...?"

"The question would be how can you remember?" He shrugged, "You've been here before, and you'll forget once more, for Frabjous day when the Jabberwocky you once slain," He muttered in a violent Scottish accent.

"Hatter," I laughed. He blinked, and laughed with me. "So I can return, but I won't remember… Surely I won't forget you," I said stubbornly.

"You shall. Me and The Queen, and March Hare, even the Jabberwocky and flamingo hockey."

"I'm sure it was croquet." I giggled.

He moved away slightly, giving me a chance to make my decision. I grasped the vial tightly, the purple liquid sloshing around slightly. I held it as far from my body as possible, as though I intended to drop it, before I pulled open the lid and quickly put it to my lips, drinking the liquid. It tasted gloriously awful. The perfect taste, yet one I never wanted to taste again. I believed I would disappear instantly, appear in front of Hamish once more in a champion's armour still, but I didn't. Nothing happened immediately. I began to feel lighter, ethereal if that ever was a feeling. Less tangible. I was slowly fading away.

Hatter turned to face me, smiling ruefully. "Peculiar champion Alice, we'll miss you, and we are ever thankful."

Even as I felt myself leave Wonderland, the unusual feeling of disappearing, I realized I couldn't let him go; not yet. Fainter and fainter I grew, yet I became bolder. I rushed forward on ghosting feet and slammed my lips into his. He leaned back in surprise, or even disgust, but I moved closer, wrapping my arms around his neck. I felt a feather soft touch on my back, almost accidental contact as he responded, wrapping his arms around me.

Luxuriously, I fell away from Wonderland.

Or was I floating?

Yes, most certainly floating.

I fell out the rabbit hole, a distant memory of where I had started my journey. Thankfully, I was back in my dress, my corset-less, stocking-less, plain old dress. I crouched on my hands and knees, trying to regain my bearings. All of a sudden, I was shoved forward, my face slamming into the cool, damp grass. "Oof!" I huffed, moving forward away from the rabbit hole. I stood up, brushing my hands over my dress to expel dirt and grass.

"May I just ask…?" I voice said behind me. I whipped around, confused as to who was talking. In front of the rabbit hole, sitting dazedly in the grass was Hatter. He had a finger raised, as though asking for a moment, and appeared to be focusing intently on a square of grass.

I sat back down on the grass in shock. "Hatter? What- what are you…?"

He raised his hand slightly, reaffirming the raised finger. "May I just ask… what was _that_?"

Head flushed to my face as I thought about my moment of bold abandon. "How on _earth_ did you manage to come here too?" I asked, neatly sidestepping his question.

"I-I- _you_!" He exclaimed, levelling his hand to point at me. He staggered to a vertical stance, and I followed, staring at him in surprise and embarrassment. "You did this!" He said, not in anger, but in surprise. He opened and closed his mouth several times, unable to speak. Oh my. I'd baffled a Mad Hatter speechless. He turned to look around him, forgetting the confusion. He sat down on the grass once more, and began a conversation with an 'ignorant' daisy. I imagined the daisy talk back, and how peculiar it was that neither of us would find that peculiar.

"Hatter." I said, watching him grow aggravated at the rude white flower. "Hatter!" I chided. "The daisies don't talk here. They're hardly alive. Look, see," I reached down and pulled the thin hairy stalk out of the ground, and handed him the tiny, pretty flower. It was a relief he didn't faint. After a few moments, he recovered from the shock of seeing me 'murder' the daisy, and was happily plucking several of it's friends.

Meanwhile, I pondered the situation. I could hardly bring the Hatter back to the party, with his vibrant orange hair and yellow green eyes. Besides, where would I say I'd found him? Down a rabbit hole with a grinning cat and a Queen with a too-big head? No. Certainly not. How had he even got here? I was beginning to regret the kiss, considering then, I was sure I'd never see him again, or at least never remember him. But now he was here, _now_, I was terribly embarrassed.

That was it.

The kiss! There had still been some Jabberwocky blood on my lips. My face flushed red once more, remembering. How foolish it was! I should just let him go back down the rabbit hole, return to my own life, marry Hamish – or don't, there are better possibilities – and forget all about Wonderland. I turned to mention the idea to Hatter, and found him to be very close, a chain of daisies held up between his hands. "Here, here," He said, draping the chain over my hair like a flowery hairband. "This is _marvellous_! I can create such amazing bonnets out of these… That little chain looks delightful, and it's barely a hat." I reached up to touch it suspiciously. He grabbed my wrists before I could. "Don't disturb it, now," He smiled. "Now. You don't happen to have a teapot, do you?" He asked, looking down at a large pile of various other flowers.

I laughed. He didn't. "Oh, um. You were serious? I'm sorry. I don't happen to have one."

"Pity." He shrugged gloomily, and began gathering them in his hat, before quickly dropping it on his head.

"Hatter…" I started, wondering if I would be too selfish to tell him it'd be best for him to leave. He raised his eyebrows questioningly. "I think… I don't know how you got here," I lied, "But, I think that you'd prefer to be back in Wonderland. I mean, this world has none of he marvel you know and love. You know nobody but I, and I don't know how the other people I know will see you… they're all rather narrow minded."

"For one, we both know _exactly_ why I was brought here. For two, this place _is_ wonder. Flowers that don't talk! Do the animals talk?" He asked. I quickly shook my head, allowing him to continue. "The _animals_ don't talk!"

"But I thought you liked having animal friends?" I said, frowning.

"Oh, but I do. But the March Hare has been driving me _mad_ recently, and what good is a whiny dormouse without a door?" He pondered, before shaking his head quickly. "You don't have shrinking potions?" I shook my head. "Growing cake? Opposing Queens in castles? Men made of cards? Bandersnatches? Vorpal sword?" He continued, not giving me a chance to respond, barely understand what he was saying. "Jabberwockies…?" I grinned and shook my head. "… This place is _fantastic!_" He yelled, the sound echoing through the trees. I looked behind us to where the party was, nervous all over again.

"Well, that's all very well, but what about the people here? They're very judgemental, and not very understanding." I said, grimacing.

"Are you saying _you_ are embarrassed by _me_? After what _you_ did in Underland?" He laughed at my blush. The worst thing was, if it meant he felt the same, I _didn't _want to take it back.

"No! I'm not _embarrassed_ about you…" I said. It was true. I wasn't _embarrassed_ at all. I was worried. If we went traipsing back to the party - after I'd just ran from Hamish – Hatter in tow; astonished by the flowers and animals, his wild orange hair and eccentric old hat… it was impossible, even to me, the girl forever in a daydream. Even if that went alright, however strange it may seem, he would never be accepted, not in the slightest. He wasn't a respectable gentleman with a high social status, he was a redhead vagrant from the trees. I was worried he would get miserable.

"You're _worried_ about me, as I've went positively bonkers?" He asked, like discussing the weather. He raised his raggedy old hat, raising his eyebrows, and plucked a daisy from on his head, before he weaved it into my hair and patted it down. His hand lingered for longer than necessary, and his odd eyes sought out my own, though I looked away quickly. "I didn't peg you as the sort to be so bold, to be honest."

I couldn't help but smile, just a little. "I'm not." I said, laughing nervously to cover the discomfiture I was feeling.

"Well, that's a bloomin' shame," He sighed, leaning closer. I closed my eyes, my heart hammering in my chest. Cool breath coasted over my face, introducing the warm presence of another's skin. Our lips touched, just as a loud interruption sounded.

"Alice! Alice Kingsley!" A loud, nasally voice hollered. I gasped in surprise, my nose bashing into Hatter's before we pulled apart.

"Hide!" I hissed at him, but he didn't move other than to stand beside me. He looked at me, tipping his hat and smiling wickedly.

Hamish stumbled through the trees, red in the face from running. "Alice! What- what happened? Why did you run away?"

I looked at Hamish in surprise; it felt like years since I'd seen him. So much had happened in my life since I'd been at the party with him, yet to him, it was no time at all. His red hair, ashamedly combed into an obsessively neat style. The crisp grey suit he wore didn't do him any favours, and was far too organized and proper for my taste. When I didn't answer immediately, he frowned, and his gaze finally travelled to Hatter.

"What… um. _Who_, is that?" He said, distaste dripping through his words.

I opened my mouth, realizing I had nothing to say. 'Mad Hatter' was hardly a name. But before I had to, Hatter stepped forward, a wide, bridging on manic smile splitting his face. "Tarrant Hightopp, at your service. Nice to meet you. Pleasure to greet you. Lovely to see you, what a pleasure, how nice and delightful. Wonderful even, spectacular, peculi-"

"Tarrant, please." I said pleasantly, rocking back on my heels.

"Of course. And who might you be, fellow redhead?" Hatter smiled, shaking Hamish's hand vigorously.

Hamish blushed furiously. "Hamish, Hamish Ascot. Nice… to meet you, Tarrant." He smiled, like Hatter was a simpleton. "Alice, who is this man?" He asked me quietly.

"Oh, Tarrant. We are quite good friends." I said politely, smiling.

"Yes. Quite." Hatter mimicked my tone, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"Alice…" Hamish whispered. "May I… speak with you, for a second?"

"Oh my, no! Surely we have a party to attend?" The sarcasm in my tone didn't seem to register in his mind.

"Yes," He said tightly, jaw clenching. "But you see, that is the matter I wish to discuss… in _private_." He stole a glance over at Hatter, who had begun fixing the daisies in my hair with a fierce determination.

"Well… alright then." I sighed. "Tarrant, I'm terribly sorry, but I do believe Hamish desperately requires my attention."

"All righty," He grinned with a sweeping low bow, before he backed away slightly.

"What is it, Hamish?" I asked amicably, if not slightly aloof.

"Where did you find it?" He asked, shooting bewildered glances at Hatter. "I can hardly believe my eyes, looking at him!"

"Isn't he a wonder?" I smiled.

"More of a bewilderment," He said, raising his eyebrows. "What on _earth_ is he wearing?"

"Relax, Hamish. He's an actor." It seemed to be the only suitable explanation, but it didn't seem right to make a mockery of him. "Or sometimes a Hat maker. Either way, he refuses to go around in anything other than his perfect attire. And frankly, I'd say he looks dashing."

"But Alice… I apologize, but… his eyes! How… chillingly peculiar! And his hair!"

"Hamish, I do say, if you had let your locks grow long, you'd look rather the same! And what's wrong with different? If you'll excuse me, I have an old friend to converse with." I said, deliberately lifting my dress as I walked away, exposing my stocking-less ankles. There was a loud gasp, and Hamish grabbed my arm to pull me back again.

"Where are your stockings?!" He exclaimed in a hushed tone.

"Don't be my mother, Hamish. Why should I have to wear them? Because I'm a woman?" I challenged.

He blanched slightly at the sharpness in my voice, and blinked a few times. "…There was another thing I needed to discuss with you… what happened, under the gazebo?"

"Clearly, I ran away." I said, raising an eyebrow. He was really beginning to get on my nerves.

"Do you not accept my proposal?" He asked, eyes wide, as though he couldn't quite believe that I was declining.

"Hamish, you're a good person. I do enjoy your company. But I don't think I could ever think of you in that way. Do you love me?" I asked.

"Marriage isn't about _love_, Alice. It's about…" He was unable to finish that sentence. There was no right answer. "It'd do you, and your family good, if we were joined."

I raised my eyebrows, letting him know how I felt about his reasons. "My family and I are not poor, nor do we have any other reason to join on to another family. We have no need for your… charity. Though it is _such_ a great sacrifice on your part. _Please_, let it be known that we are _forever_ thankful."

With that, I walked over to Hatter, smiling when he replaced the chain of daisies on my head with a chain of bluebells. "They go lovely with your hair. And they match your dress," He said, studying them carefully.

"So… what? You're just going to go straight back to the party? With _that_ ruffian?" Hamish asked loudly.

I linked my arm with Hatter's, "You're not coming, Hamish? To your own proposal party?" We started walking away, before Hamish quickly began to follow.

**Ah. There's the first chapter of my idea. I was so upset with the ending of Alice In Wonderland, but I prefer this version. Plus, it allows me to have fun with a story. It can be as light, funny, or as romantic as I want :D **

**I'm sorry if the characters are off, especially Mad Hatter**. **It would be a lot easier if he were simply mad, end of, although Johnny Depp makes the character amazing.. **

**Anyway, thanks a lot for reading, and if you could review, it'd really make my day. :D**

**Lots of love**

**xxx**


	2. Chapter 2

**Well. I have to say… 38 reviews! :D The most reviews I've had on a first chapter, or even after a fifth chapter… ever. I'm so happy I might just… even… futterwacken :D**

_**Curiouser and Curiouser.**_

_**Chapter 2. **_

"Imogene!" Hatter exclaimed, rushing into the party with reckless abandon. He bowed slightly in front of my delusional aunt, a wide smile plastering his face. I stared in shock, uncomprehending.

"I guess the affliction is catching. You've got it too." Hamish muttered sourly. I ignored him, staring as Aunt Imogene smiled up at him. There was confusion behind her old eyes… she didn't know him. "Tarrant!" I called, laughing and smiling to hide my complete incomprehension. The smile slid off his face like a collapsing birthday cake as he looked at her. I walked over to them quickly, and was grabbed by Aunt Imogene.

"This isn't my Prince. I'm not waiting for _him_." She told me, as though I'd gotten the wrong one.

Hatter laughed, "But of course I'm not!"

"How do you know her?" I asked, searching his face.

"A rabbit hole isn't hard to find when you're as little as a rabbit," He shrugged. "I remember when you were _thiiiiis_ tiny!" He raised his palm to the height of his knee, laughing at Imogene like they were old friends.

"But you're not my Prince!" She said suspiciously.

"Who _is_ her Prince?" I said, watching as Hamish, and a few other partygoers began to approach.

"The _Knave,_ of course. Well. He was never a Prince. But still." He scowled in annoyance, an angry cloud on his face.

"Aunt Imogene was in Wonderland?"

"Twice." He raised two fingers and wiggled them. "Same as you, when she was little and when she was… nineteen? Yes. The Knave spent a lot of time with her, without the Queen's orders and-" He put a hand over his eye and made a popping sound. I shuddered.

By that time, Hamish was standing nearby with everyone else from the party, talking to them about Hatter and me. Mother pushed past him angrily. I could see her coming towards us like a rock being thrown. "Alice Kingsley!" She hissed, casting nervous glances to the forming crowd. "Why on _earth_ did you run away?"

"Mother, I-" I started, but she clearly wasn't finished.

"It was just plain _childish_, Alice. You are a nineteen year old _woman_, for goodness sake. When a respectable young gentleman asks for your hand, you should know by now what is expected of you!"

"Mother. Hamish and I are not getting married. We have sorted out the misunderstandings and decided it was not meant to be. I am dreadfully sorry that I did not act as expected, but really, I don't give a damn how I'm _meant_ to act." I said, turning away.

"_Alice!_" My Mother hissed, at the same time Hatter called, "Alice?" In a confused voice. I ignored my Mother, and began walking toward him, when she grabbed my arm tightly. I carried on walking, my arm falling out of her tight grip as I walked. She settled for walking quickly beside me. "And who is _that_?" She asked, "He looks positively _ridiculous_! You haven't heard what Hamish is saying about him… and you."

"I told you Mother, it's all a misunderstanding. Tarrant is a friend of mine, from a while ago, and Hamish was upset, as he didn't know who Tarrant was when he found me with him."

"Misunderstanding? _Misunderstanding_? Alice, the man is over there, gossiping to our peers, claiming that he found you and this _vagrant_ in a-" She paused, lowering her voice even more. "A _compromising situation_."

"He _what_?!" I yelled, turning around to face Hamish.

"Alice?" Hatter asked again, staring at a table. I scrunched my eyes shut, wishing that everyone would stop being so judgemental, and in Hamish's case, so _bitter._

"What is it, Tarrant?" I said, my patience running thin. Not with him, really, just with _everything._

"Can I eat this?" He grimaced, picking up a slice of shortbread.

I sighed, smiling a little, and nodded. I turned back to my Mother, to see her staring at me imploringly. "What do you want me to do?" I asked, gritting my teeth. "Do you want me to introduce you to him? Do you want me to tell him to _leave_? Make me marry Hamish? Have as many kids as I possibly can and make a life of attending parties, washing up after my family and staying at home, waiting for my _dear_ husband to return from whirlwind adventures?" I said, my voice slowly raising in pitch.

She looked… terrified. For a second, I was sure there were tears in the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away before they leaked over her face. "Alice… why don't you ask Lady Ascot if you can introduce him to everyone else?" She said, smiling gently. "If I am honest with myself, he looks like an interesting character to know."

"First, I need to talk to Hamish." I huffed, glowering at the group. Lady Ascot walked over to Hamish, placing a hand on his arm. He looked up at her, and a silent conversation passed between them. He looked over as I stormed over, and the group quickly dispelled.

"I just don't understand it," He finished saying to someone as they walked off.

"Don't understand what?" I asked, putting my hands on my hips indignantly.

"Why you turned me down," He said, raising an eyebrow, attempting to appear like he was unaffected by my rejection.

"Well, perhaps this situation is one of the reasons why." I said dourly.

"You see," He continued as though he hadn't heard me, "I don't understand, you have several gentleman friends, ones perfectly suitable for courtship, yet you don't seem eager to settle down with any of them. And how today, when the idea of a commitment is placed before you, you run off to meet with strange gentlemen in the woods." He mused mockingly. I gasped.

"Just what exactly are you implying?!"

"Well, not to be so crude, but I do believe that the signs are pretty clear, when you add that to the fact that you are not wearing your stockings or corset… difficult items to put on alone, or in such a hurry…" He smirked, and I realized then, that no matter what had happened to me in Wonderland, no matter my doubts about Hamish beforehand, I could never have married him. He had such a nasty nature, when pushed to it. Hatter was mad, certainly, but at least he wasn't malevolent-

And that was when Hatter punched Hamish.

And Hamish went down. I mean _down_. He fell backwards, like his legs buckled.

"Oh my _Lord!_" Lady Ascot screeched, running toward Hamish's crumpled form.

"Not a soul is allowed to talk to Champion Alice in such a way!" Hatter yelled at the unconscious Hamish. "Not only were you lying _behind_ her back, but you called her a _who-"_

"-Hatter!" I squeaked, cutting him off.

He stopped talking, but didn't seem to hear me. "Bloody…" He paused. "_Bloody… Harry!_" He yelled.

I grabbed his arm, standing on my tiptoes to whisper in his ear, "It's _Hamish_. Please, stop, before things get… _worse_."

"_Bloody Hamish!"_ He yelled, then looked at me, zipping his lips comically, locking them with an invisible key, and throwing it over his shoulder. "…Sorry." He sighed at last.

Lord Ascot appeared next to his wife, and grabbed her shoulders. "Darling. _Darling,_ do calm down. He's just unconscious. Nothing but a lad's skirmish."

"_Skirmish!_" She shrieked. "Skirmishes are _fights_! This… _hooligan_ just ran over and _attacked_ our son!"

Lord Ascot looked at Hatter thoughtfully. He knew as well as us that Hamish was in the wrong. Though of course, no man would want this for their son, it was obvious Lord Ascot saw he deserved it. Ever since my Father died, he had almost become a Father figure to me, as he and my Father were very close friends. "I think that the young man is just very protective of our Alice and wanted to defend her honour. After all, Hamish had been a little down, a little rejected; he probably needed a little shake. Go on, Darling. Get the smelling salts, he'll be around in no time," He said quietly, soothingly.

She stood up, eyes blazing at Hatter and I, before walking briskly back to their mansion, a departing storm. The twins stood uncertainly around Hamish, eyes wide and worried. They looked over at us in shock. "Faith, Fiona. Come look after Hamish for me. I'll return presently."

He stood up, and strolled toward us slowly, leisurely. I knew this from _my_ Father. He may have stood up for Hatter to Lady Ascot, but it didn't mean he wasn't angry. He was drawing it out. Needless to say, the Hatter didn't seem disturbed. He didn't know what was coming. Then again, he wasn't a young girl being reprimanded by a Father.

"May I talk to you… Mr. Hightopp? Alone?" He said, looking at me.

"No!" I gasped. After all that, Hatter could easily have another outburst, without me to stop it getting out of hand. "I mean, I'm perfectly alright to hear whatever you have to say. And Tarrant doesn't mind me hearing, do you?" I asked nervously.

"What is it, Mr…?" He said, his mind in perfect clarity once more.

"_Lord_ Ascot." He said, putting his hand out for Hatter to shake it. Instead, Hatter raised his hat and bowed, causing a pile of daisies to fall from his head, like a magic trick. Lord Ascot blinked in surprise, but didn't say anything. "I have to say, I'm unhappy about what occurred between you and my son, just now. I think it was incredibly unnecessary, even considering what he might have been saying. Now, I know that you were doing it because he was insulting Alice, but I'm sure it would have been more respectable to speak, rather than… hit." He said. He stared at Hatter for a second, appraising his strange appearance, and blinked, in confusion, like he hadn't noticed before, though of course, he had.

"I _entirely_ understand, Lord Ascot. In fact, I shall make an apology when he awakens… If he will apologize to Alice."

"Yes, yes, of course. I'm afraid, if it weren't for Alice, I would have been a lot angrier. After all, to me, you are a stranger. But you seem to have the best intentions at heart, when it comes to her," He nodded curtly at Hatter, almost like a dismissal, before turning to me. "Alice… I'm upset that I wasn't going to be gaining you as a daughter in law, but I know you, and your Father, well enough to know that there is no changing your mind once it's set. And… it was easy to tell that with your upbringing, there was no chance of you settling down to a mundane family life…" He said, smiling slightly. "I'm… I'm going to go see to the boy. Never been punched before, at least, not like that. He'll have to get used to it if he wishes to talk like that to respectable young ladies." He grinned, walking back over to where Hamish lay, Lady Ascot reviving him.

"You never know," Lord Ascot said, turning to face us as he walked off. "For Alice, perhaps the peculiar sort of lad like yourself is perfect."

"Lord Ascot!" I called as he turned around to walk away. He turned back curiously. "We're not…" I pointed between myself and Hatter embarrassedly. He just shook his head slowly, laughing, before he sauntered off.

The party had returned to – almost – full swing. People were dancing to organized tunes, nibbling at slices of cake and biscuits graciously, sipping from their china cups of tea demurely. I could see my sister, joining the older married woman, joining the embarrassed, the women who were seen and not heard. I could see Hamish was back, yet it was hard to notice him, unless you looked out, which most of us were. He was shyly dipping in and out of the shadows, too humiliated to regain the spotlight.

On the contrary, Hatter had become the party's entertainment. He sat in one of the chairs by the table, regaling those who dared to listen with stories of fantasy and a world of Wonder. All listened intently as he described in detail ridiculously 'nonsensical' characters such as a large headed Queen and the humorously hideous Jabberwocky. All gasped and murmured in delighted shock when he spoke audaciously with foul words, mesmerized as he alternated between perfect, eloquent tones to a violent Scotsman, capable of swearing till your ears bled. The whole time, he sat with a teacup and teapot, like he had back in Wonderland, when he'd stuffed me inside it.

"It reached the final battle. The foul Jabberwocky was prepared to fight the White Queen's Champion, and the Champion was ready to slay the Jabberwocky. She wielded the Vopal sword; the only sword capable of slaying the Jabberwocky,"

"Excuse me," Said Faith, eyes wide with interest. "The White Queen's Champion was a lady?"

"Of course." Hatter scowled. He glanced over to me, standing at the edge of the group, listening. He winked quickly, so quick I could have thought it was a blink. "Anyway. The Champion and the Jabberwocky fought on the castle ruins, the old flooring a chessboard, for a chess game a little less organized than you folks are used to." He grinned, and a few people laughed. "As I've said, the Jabberwocky was large, huge, gigantic, and the Champion was small, little, mini. Try as she might, she couldn't get in a hit. And if she did, the _whole_ Red Queen's army were there, and they didn't fight fair. So a crazy old sod," He stood up straight, "If I do say so myself," He whispered conspiringly. "Ran forward an' stabbed at the beast!" With that, he was off. He pushed the chair away from himself, and leapt into a space on the grass, brandishing an invisible sword. The group gasped in enchanted shock, watching him battle the creature of their imaginations.

I pushed my way through the crowd to his abandoned seat, "Of course, the Red Queen didn't like _that_. It was a battle for her Champion, and her rival's Champion. Her whole _army_ retaliated, and soon the armies were at their own separate war to the Champion and The Jabberwocky." I grinned at their awed faces, and turned to watch Hatter's practical performance. It wasn't exactly the best thing I wanted to see. Rather than acting out a scene for his excited audience, I was convinced Hatter had lost it. His anger had taken over, filling in his imagination's blanks. Each stab and slice of an imaginary sword was meant to do harm. With a wicked grin at the audience, I too leapt over to where he was fighting, and held out my imaginary sword, silently asking him to battle. He paused, puzzled.

"Do you _dare_ battle me, Mad Hatter?" I asked haughtily, my best possible impression of the Knave, and surprisingly, it was a fairly good manly voice.

There was only a short moment of silence, before he understood and straightened his back and stared at me coolly. "The question is… why is a raven like a writing desk?" He flashed a toothy smile. I laughed, before getting back into character. I cast a glance around the garden, pretending to be the cool, conceited Knave. I noticed we had gathered a larger crowd, most of the newcomers speculating our show in confusion.

"You speak no sense, you ludicrous fool!" I snarled, lunging forward with my intangible weapon. He dodged expertly. "Come on now. I'm trained for fighting. I do it for a living. You make… ragged hats," I sneered, shaking my hair around my face in an arrogant action, mimicking the Knave.

"Well, if you're such an amazing, experienced fighter, then _fight!_" Hatter yelled, running at me with his arms ready to swing an imaginary sword. He dodged left, and the battle begun. We swung at each other, and I swear I could feel the blows like heavy bruises. At one point, I swung my arm over Hatter's head, and he ducked, falling on his backside. He cocked his head sidewards, and laughed as he came out of character. At that point, I was still stuck in the thrill of the fight, no matter how fake it was. It was exhilarating, like being back in Wonderland. I stood over him, hands raised above me as though grasping a sword.

"Please! _No_!" Hatter yelled in mock fear, recoiling. He grabbed my ankles and pulled me down, before standing over me. He raised his imaginary sword, pulled a maniac expression, and plunged his arms forward, in what would have been a fatal wound to me, had he not swung into a bow instead. I jumped up and bowed as well. I then curtsied, but before I could stand again, Hatter grabbed my hand and pulled me back over to the crowd.

"The Hatter triumphed against the Knave. He wasn't killed though. Unlike the beastly Jabberwocky. It's head was lopped right off. Slice. Dead." He did the motions. He looked at me, and I bowed again at the waist. "The Red Queen and her Knave were imprisoned, for the rest of time…" He said in a mysterious tone.

Everyone clapped. Whether it was to be polite, or because they truly enjoyed it, I didn't know. And it didn't matter. The environment was entirely different from earlier, where it felt like everyone was stepping on glass, nervous they would cut their feet. The audience began to dispel, return to their social groups for more chatter, tea, dancing. I looked at Hatter and grinned. He might not be properly accepted, but he was in this way. He would certainly be admired by some, and sought after for storytelling and acting skills. Or of course, for a beautiful hat. He beamed back, and reached for my hand. It was no attraction, or even, daresay, love; it was partnership. We'd been through a lot together, and we could still go through trials here, together. Friends.

Hamish's red head appeared through the dispersing crowd. "Alice. I wanted to… apologize, for before. I had no right…" He said, his voice hosting frosty undertones. I felt Hatter's grip on my hand tighten, and I squeezed it quickly, reminding him to behave.

"And… Hamish. I am sorry, dear chap. I am remorseful, mate. Hope the bruise…clears up." He said, looking at the darkening circle around Hamish's eye.

"Indeed." Hamish said, seeming insulted. He didn't comment. Instead, he walked away.

"Alice! Tarrant! That was delightful!" My Mother cried, walking over with a bright smile on her face. "I didn't know you could act like that, darling!" She said. "Tarrant! You must bring that out in her," She laughed nervously. "Lady Ascot says that the party shall close soon enough, Smith is getting the horses and carriage sorted out. Where are you going, Mr. Hightopp?"

"I lived down a rabbit hole, so anywhere really," He said, his eyes wide and voice excitable.

Mother looked puzzled, but laughed. "Oh, you're a dear." She remarked. "But really. I do insist. Where are you returning to?"

"Wherever I go, I'm staying with Alice." He said firmly. The warmth in my Mother's eyes cooled. She smiled, but she wasn't happy. A temper was brewing.

"All right." Mother said. "There's going to be time for a few more dances, are you two going to dance?" She asked, her pale blue eyes unnecessarily inquisitive.

Hatter offered his hand to my Mother, and she laughed, shaking her head. "What a dear. Take Alice, lovely."

He offered me his hand, and I accepted, laughing.

**AN: Thanks again for reading, review please :D I tried to make a bit of a darker Hatter here, like one of the reviews said, but it wasn't great. I laughed a LOT when I thought of Hatter punching Hamish. Tell me what you think! :D I will continue, though it's kinda hard to come up with a cliff hanger for this one xD**

**Thanks, xxx**


	3. Chapter 3

**71 reviews! I've never felt so loved in my life! xD Keep 'em coming, guys! :D The reviews were a real boost, and they're letting me know I'm writing what you want. Btw, I've moved to the Alice In Wonderland, 2010 category, so if you need to find it, it's there instead :D **

_**Curiouser & Curiouser**_

_**Chapter 3.**_

"_Forward_ two three turn, back two three four…"

"Well. This is hardly fun." Hatter huffed, in between my mumbling the rhythm to the '_Gay Gordons'_. "Where's the elation? The joy? Aren't we dancing for a reason?"

"No. I suppose not, really." I said, raising my eyebrows thoughtfully. "It's meant to be for merriment, but the most fun I've seen was when we were storytelling."

He stopped, dropping his arm from around my shoulder and letting go of my hand. "This is _meant_ to be fun?" He asked bewilderedly as the next pair walked into us. I grabbed him again and walked forward, trying to get back in with the tune.

"There's not much we can do to change that, really… Do you want to stop?"

"Certainly not!" He said indignantly. "_**Forward**_** two three turn! **_**Back**_** two three four!**" He bellowed, doing the motions with added fervour.

I had to stop dancing and move out of the way of the couple behind us, as I was almost falling over with laughter. "Are you… _ever_… not an eccentric…person?" I asked between giggles.

I expected him to laugh with me, but instead, he looked rather sad. "Is my personality bothering you?" He asked dejectedly, his face crumpling.

"No!" I said immediately. "It's what makes you so different to everyone else… why everyone wants to know you. I just hope being here doesn't make you change. It's all so… _we're_ all so… plain, here."

"Personally, I love it here." He said brightly, his eyes wide and bright as he took in the surroundings once more. I watched him sceptically, waiting for the world to appear to him as black and white as it was to me. It didn't, and if it did, he hid it.

"Mr. Hightopp, I do believe you owe me a dance," My Mother said, walking over to us and tapping him on the shoulder, as the men normally did. We both looked at her in mild surprise, but she never lost her smile.

"Will _this_ one be the Futterwacken?" Hatter whispered to me, for the second time. I laughed and shook my head.

"This one is_ 'Strip The Willow'_. Have fun!" I smiled, walking away to sit down.

"Alice." I turned around, to see Hamish offering to dance. He looked completely contrite, a little shy. "Surely you could spare me…one dance?" He said, his feet scuffing the ground nervously. He looked like a worried child. My annoyance toward him lessened, but I don't think I'd ever be friends with him again.

"I'm sure I can." I said, walking with him over to the line of people. It was ladies on one side, gentlemen on the other. I was stood next to my sister, Margaret. She looked at me from the corner of her eye, her chin raised.

"I don't think I understand you, Alice." She murmured.

"Well, I'd rather do what I wish, rather than be understood. Besides, if I'm understood, I'm predictable." I shrugged. She opened her mouth to respond, but the music started, and her words drowned in the noise. Scowling, she turned away from me. I considered telling her about her husband, but she lost her scowl when she looked across at him, so I decided to give him another chance. She was very happy with him, it was the least I could do, and it was hardly my place.

One by one, couples spun at the bottom of the lines, before twirling with everyone in the opposite line, returning to their partners, twirling with another, and so on, until they reached the top and made an arch for everyone to pass through. We all clapped as Faith and Fiona twirled, having danced with all the gentlemen at the party at least once, and laughed graciously as Fiona tripped over her own feet, grinning good naturedly as her sister pulled her to her feet again. I glanced over to Hatter, to see him looking between me and Hamish surreptitiously. His strange yellow green eyes flicked away when he noticed me looking, but he continued to watch Hamish, a peculiar expression on his face. I watched him, trying to decipher his emotions from the expression – he was normally so easy to understand, everything on the surface – when suddenly, I was yanked in a circle by Faith as she completed her rounds through the people. When I looked back, Hatter wasn't looking at me or Hamish anymore.

When Hatter and my Mother made their rounds, I noticed my Mother appeared to be talking and laughing with him, like they were old friends. It was wonderful how quickly things had changed, between them, at least. It wasn't even a day, and already, my Mother had accepted my bizarre looking, unconventional new friend. I smiled, wondering if we all had to conform to fit in. While they spun up the aisle, hands linked together as they twirled too quickly, I looked at Hatter. He looked even stranger than before. Confused, perplexed, and not happily bewildered. It would be typical, I thought glumly, just as he started to become accepted, he would see how dull this word was, compared to Wonderland. After they spun, Hatter didn't twirl with everyone, instead, he went to sit down, in the middle of the dance. My Mother paused, puzzled. I felt her eyes on me, and decided that it was only right I go check on him. It was the last dance of the night anyway, and I didn't fancy spending it with my rejected fiancé. Well, ex-fiancé.

I didn't even look at Hamish as I walked away. I know my sister was glowering at me, but that didn't matter yet. "Are you quite alright?" I asked, standing by him. He didn't look up at me, so I put my hand on his shoulder.

He was sitting at a table with the older relatives and friends attending the party, not listening to their endless, blathering tales. Instead, he was staring into an empty teacup, which he clutched close to his chest. "I don't know," He answered, or so I thought. He looked up at me with large sad eyes. "I don't know, Alice, why _is_ a raven like a writing desk?" He sighed despairingly.

His question stupefied me momentarily, especially the way he said it. _He's _mad_, Alice_. I reminded myself. I deciphered the meaning as the only thing I expected. "Are… do you want to go back?" I asked gloomily.

He shook his head quickly, "I want to dance, party, drink tea, like the bloody big head never did live, so never could die." He sounded zany. I couldn't understand his words, and I couldn't understand his mood. Personally, I was exhausted, perhaps he was also, but just took it differently.

"We're going home soon, I think. You'll get to see where I live!" I said happily. He grabbed a spoon from the table, and began stirring the empty teacup. He looked up at me with wide, thoughtful eyes.

When that last dance finished, everyone bowed or curtsied. Lady Ascot, Lord Ascot and Hamish went around thanking everyone for coming. The guests slowly departed, returning to their own manors and mansions in high spirits. I stayed with Hatter until Mother came to tell us it was time to leave. He didn't speak at all, not even on the way to the carriage. Nothing I said could brighten his mood.

Soon enough, we were sat in the carriage, being pulled along a cobbled road I could barely remember coming along in the first place. My suspicions were soon proved right as Hatter fell asleep on the journey, his head leaning against my shoulder, and his hand clasped in mine comfortingly. If he was upset, at least he wasn't upset at me, as I'd began to fear.

Mother appraised us from where she sat, her eyes noticing everything, yet nothing at all. This lost Mad Hatter and I had been through a lot together, and I didn't need to explain our close friendship to her. She wouldn't understand, anyway. That didn't stop her from trying to understand, of course. "I do believe Mr. Hightopp likes you," She said quietly so not to wake him, a wary, half smile on her face.

"We are very close friends," I said, like it would stop her questions. "Of course he likes me. We're practically best friends." And that was all.

"I don't mean like that, Alice, please don't pretend to be so dense." She said.

"I genuinely don't know what you _do_ mean, Mother," I sighed.

"I mean… I think this young man would enjoy your courtship." She said nervously, edging around meanings.

"I very much doubt that," I snorted.

"And I think, if you are honest with yourself, you wouldn't mind that either."

"Don't be ridiculous! I'm not marrying Hamish because I don't like him, not because I like someone else!" I giggled, smothering laughter so not to wake him. "I care for Tarrant very much, but not in… not in that sort of way..." Oh, but I did, didn't I? If I only ever thought he was my friend, why did I impulsively kiss him in the first place? Why did he kiss me back? And again, when we came back through the rabbit hole?

I pursed my lips uncertainly. I did _like_ him. Whether it was simply a connection, that we thought much the same, or that we had been through a lot together, it didn't matter. We didn't have to court, and of course, we wouldn't. Undoubtedly, my Mother had noticed as I mulled over a muddled mind. "I…" I grimaced, trying to think of how to explain it. "I _like_ him. We _are_ very good friends, and I'm not sure whether it's just that friendship, or whether I feel we're could be more than friends." I said, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. It was probably the most I'd talked to my Mother about men. We never discussed Hamish, partly because I was entirely clueless most of the time as to how he felt, and did not feel at all the same.

She smiled knowingly, her lips curling up at the sides. "I'm glad you're being mature about this, Alice. Lord knows how I almost wept when you declined Hamish, but… I think you'll be okay." She said shakily. "I'm glad you're not diving into a different relationship like a love struck child. You're becoming more and more like your Father every day; unconventional, impulsive." She smiled at me fondly. "You know… even us sophisticated, respected ladies like to have a gossip occasionally. I haven't talked like this since… since I met your Father." She sighed.

"But dear, tell me, where did you meet Mr. Hightopp? I've never heard you mention him in your life!" She asked curiously, thoughts of my Father a distant fog in her mind again.

"At a tea party," I grinned, trying not to laugh as I remembered.

"A _tea party?_ How lovely," She smiled.

"It was. Though it was very bizarre, at the time."

"Where is he from? Where are his family?" She asked. It was one of the only questions I didn't want to answer, as there really was no answer explicable to her.

"He's from the New World. He and his family were travelling entertainers," I began, the lies slipping from my mouth in a way that made me feel irrationally guilty.

"Like _gypsies_?!" My Mother exclaimed, aghast.

"No, no, of course not! He is still very highly regarded in his hometown," That was true, at least. "They just chose to entertain in a more… avant-garde way. Tarrant made costumes for plays, though he specializes in hats," Gently, I grabbed his ragged old hat from his head and placed it on my own.

"He doesn't sound very American…" She said pensively. "Why isn't he still with his family, gaining social status here?"

"There was a fire. A rival group came in the night and burned their temporary homes away, leaving only him," This was almost-not-quite-true.

She covered her mouth with her palm. "How ghastly," She murmured, looking at Hatter sympathetically as he snored on my shoulder. "It must have been very traumatic…" She said quietly. I nodded slowly, looking down at him.

We got home soon after. I regarded the building like looking through water, or looking back at an old dream. The sky around it had darkened to a moody blue, but the white of the building seemed almost self-illuminated. It had been falling to pieces ever since Father had passed away, unfortunately. Occasionally, Lord Ascot would help Mother to pay for repairs, but really, we were clinging onto our luxurious life by our fingernails. Father had left a lot of money, I was sure, but Mother didn't seem to use a lot of it. I don't think I would ever understand why, not until I experienced a loss like that.

The gardens surrounding it, on the other hand, were magnificent. Mother spent a lot of her time perfecting it. Keeping her mind off things, I suppose. There were flowers of every colour and shape, on bushes with vivacious green leaves. There were rows of hedges, shaped like a maze, but she never allowed them to grow as tall. There was a fountain in the centre, with magnificent cherubs spouting clear blue water, the grey stone structures meticulously polished. There were old statues of angels everywhere, posing beautifully, as though angels were truly made from granite. There were also Grecian figures; they weren't regarded to be nude when they were made from stone, therefore, they were perfectly acceptable, and actually, surprisingly popular. Though I didn't want to discredit my Mother's work, I had to admit, it was neurotically average. Nothing ostentatious or out of the ordinary.

"Home sweet home," I sighed, taking in the scene like taking in air. Lanterns littered the path to the house, illuminating our way. Carefully, I shook Hatter's shoulder. "We're here, Tarrant," I said softly. His eyes fluttered open, butterflies of eyelashes. He looked at me slightly uncomprehendingly, his head still resting on my shoulder. He squinted, then looked around the carriage.

"What?!" He sat up suddenly, like a puppet on active strings. "Where…?!" His eyes travelled the height of his hat, still resting upon my head. Eventually, he looked at my face, and seeds of recognition bloomed. "Alice? _The_ Alice?" He asked, before it hit him. "But of course it's you!" He exclaimed. "I remember. Yes. I'm sure I remember. If it's that I recall you, then it's certainly true." He said earnestly.

"Good." I laughed. "We're at the Kingsley Manor, my residence." I smiled.

"But why…? Oh yes. Never mind. It's quite alright."

"Shall we go inside?" I asked, looking outside the carriage to the door, where Mother stood waiting.

"Indeed." He said, stepping out of the carriage. He stroked one of the horses' sides absentmindedly as he sauntered past it. "Incredible to think they don't speak," He said wondrously.

"I'm certain they have words, they just do not wish to discuss them." I said, touching the animal's softly strong flanks.

We walked up to the large oak front door, where Mother held it open in wait. "Mr. Hightopp! I completely forgot, you don't happen to have a change of clothes with you, do you?"

He shook his head, though it was rather obvious he didn't. I looked at his messy clothes thoughtfully, wondering whether he always wore clothes like them, or whether he normally wore neater things. I doubted it. Sympathy flashed in Mother's eyes. "Tell you what, you can borrow some of Alice's Father's. You surely can't sleep in those old clothes!" She smiled. Hatter looked perplexed, a little like he was trying hard not to be offended. "Give me a moment to move some pyjamas and a clean set of clothes into the guest room, and then we'll show you where you can stay." She said, before walking up the creaking old stairs.

There was a long, sleepy silence after she left. "You really do live in a castle," He remarked, gazing around the old house with bleary eyes.

"Hardly," I laughed. "It's falling apart."

"It's fantastic." He stated. "Do you think I can stay here… and I'll make hats?"

"I'm sure you can," I said, though I wasn't sure at all. Mother would only stay sympathetic for so long, and she would always be curious. Either way, he smiled, seeming relieved.

There was another long silence. I felt exhausted, my feet almost went from under me. "There," Mother said, returning. "Come on, we'll show you around." She said. Hatter walked toward her, nabbing his hat back as he passed me. My head felt lighter, and a little colder. "There is a dining room, kitchen and sitting room downstairs, of course. There is also a lavatory and wash room on the ground floor." Mother directed. We reached the top of the stairs. Here we have Alice's room at the end of the hall, my room is next to hers, another washroom, and here is your room." She said, pointing to each door in turn. "You should find it fully furnished with everything you require, but if there is something amiss, do not hesitate to mention it to me, I am sure I, or Alice will be able to help. Up those stairs is my husband's study, another guest room if you'd prefer, and an observatory, though it'd be best not to go up there as it does need some work, I'm afraid. Each of the bedrooms have balconies, though I warn you to be careful if you choose to go out on them, the railings are somewhat damaged. Now, would you like anything to eat before going up to your chambers, or would you rather get used to it?" She said, smiling the whole time. I'd never heard her talk for as long in my life, at least, not without pauses.

"I think I might just hit the hay. It has been a long day," He said absently, his eyes threatening to drop shut.

"Alright dear, I hope you have a pleasant night." Mother said politely, nodding toward his room again. He shuffled away slowly, as tired as death.

Once he was out of sight, she turned to me. "You, young lady, look fit to collapse." She said, taking in the lethargic sight of me.

"I feel it," I said, rubbing my eye. Though the day had been split between worlds, technically, I had fought and destroyed a gigantic Jabberwocky today.

"Go on then, off to bed." She smiled, leaning in to kiss my cheek. "Sweet dreams, dear."

"Sleep tight, and don't let the bed bugs bite," I said, grinning as I stumbled into my room.

It was as though I'd stumbled right into the past. I could barely remember my room. Not that I bothered to look around it. I changed in a daze, more than likely already asleep, and I fell onto my bed without second thought.

For once in my life, I never once dreamt about Wonderland. My dreams were still very specific, though. A piano was constantly playing wrong notes in mismatched melodies, the volume fading and rising. When it was very quiet, I could see, hear, _feel_ insistent tapping. It was claws of a disappearing cat. The slow tick of a lazy clock. The chinking sound of a small glass vial hitting glass, or the clink of swords in a slow fight.

Or the sound of nails on a glass window. I sat up in surprise, my dreams fading into reality. I looked to the window and saw a lone smile.

**AN: Wow. This chapter was quite difficult for me to think of, tbh. I'm trying to do what most of you are liking, the idea that it isn't an instant love thing for Alice&Hatter, but obviously, there has to be progress, no matter how slow. I'm not sure if the progress is obvious or not, but I don't just want to tell you what I'm trying to do. Maybe try and guess in reviews? I know that Alice & her Mum talk about laaaaaaaaaav & stuff a little, that's obviously not the progression I mean. **

**Either way, tell me what you think? I'm quite uncertain about this chapter, since I didn't have many ideas to begin with for it. :D Review! Thankyouuu**

**Love you all, you're stars in the eyes of the great Tarrant Hightopp.**

**xxx**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey, sorry for the long delay :/ school, etc etc. Then I got back to the chapter, & found I hated it. I still don't like it D: But tell me what you think, either way. I'll try make things more interesting, I got an idea or two that I might use in the future, but for now, it's a little difficult :/ I'll try be quicker with the next one! x**

_**Curiouser & Curiouser**_

_**Chapter 4.**_

The pearly white teeth formed a single grin, dancing from side to side like a boat on choppy seas. Slowly, large, rounded turquoise eyes faded into view, preceding hairs slowly creating luminescent, azure and platinum stripes. Before my eyes, a large, furry cat had bloomed into view, behind my window. His smile was ecstatic when he saw my surprise, but with a pop, he was gone again. I stood up and walked toward the precarious balcony, eyes wide and expectant for the cat to reappear. I began to unlock the door, disregarding my Mother's cautioning. There was a loud pop behind me, and I whirled around in shock.

There, sitting on my bed - getting comfortable, might I add – was Chessur. He closed his eyes lazily, grin still stuck on his face. "Chessur!" I whispered.

"Hmm…yes?" He asked, raising one eyelid to look at me. His pupils were large, black slashes in his eyes, but they regarded me kindly.

I strode over on my tiptoes, carefully avoiding creaky floorboards, and scooped him up in my arms. It was surprising how heavy an only semi-tangible cat was; I had to sit down to bear his weight. He snuggled in, purring as I stroked a hand over his soft fur. "What are you doing here?" I asked, though it sounded slightly like I was fussing over a lost pet.

"I can be anywhere I want to be, anytime…" He sighed. "As to why… why ever would I not? It may seem an odd happening as of currently, considering you now know me, but it is really rather a more mundane of my endeavours. I don't much like it here, really. Why? Abnormal little incidents control everything. Keeping idiosyncrasies normal gets someone little enjoyment yieldingly, Alice Kingsley. The main reasons I do not often travel to places such as this…" He huffed, simple as an exhalation of air. I looked down at him and blinked. That could not have happened. I barely understood him. Either it didn't make sense, or the cat had chewed on a thesaurus in Wonderland. "But of course, that's not of importance. In answer to the question you mistakenly worded wrong; _why_ I am here, I have no reason. I'm merely passing through."

I stared for a few more seconds, my mind working furiously. I wondered if having a normal pet cat was this difficult. "Right, right," I said absentmindedly, petting his magical coat. "Well, that's fabulous!" I smiled.

"Indeed. Now, would you please set me down? You have rather… bony, uncomfortable arms."

"Thanks," I groaned, placing him on the bed, before self-consciously rubbing my arms.

"My…pleasure," He said, drifting off.

"Wait!" I exclaimed, and the single word seemed a lot louder in the air than I intended. "What about Wonderland? How is everyone fairing? Are they mad – er, _upset_ - that the Mad Hatter is here? Do you want him to go back?"

He yawned languidly, looking up at me irritably with those large, sapphire eyes. "The Red Queen has been imprisoned, why would anything be amiss?"

"Well… I just thought- I mean, there could be other problems, I…I just thought." I shrugged. "I was thinking of them."

"Well, that's very caring of you, but everyone happens to be doing fine. The White Queen has finished restoring her full kingdom, and all is well. And though most were astonished when Tarrant disappeared, we have figured it was all your doing, Miss Kingsley. And the general opinion is to let things be, as long as our saviours are happy together, whether in Underland or not."

"Chessur, we're not-" I started, but he raised an eyebrow tiredly, and it was clear he didn't care to hear. There was a short silence. I didn't want him to fall asleep before I got a chance to talk to him. "So… Do you want to hear about when we got back?" I asked awkwardly, trying not to sound too desperate to talk.

"I've already chattered with Tarrant…"

"Yes, but… Did he tell you about the flowers?"

"They don't talk here… Some _peace_, perhaps."

I was too giddy to take the hint. He had woken me up, and I'd be damned if I wasted this opportunity to reconnect. "Did he tell you about Hamish?"

"The obtuse young fellow he knocked unconscious?"

"Ah, well then yes, he did tell you." I said, deflated.

"Miss Kingsley, I think you will find, there is not a lot he didn't tell me. Now please, may I have some rest?"

"You lazy cat," I said playfully. "Did he tell you about the dancing?"

"_Forward two three turn, back two three four. Repeat. Twirl the lady, then waltz. Forward two three turn._ He punished me quite severely with a rendition of the full day."

"Alright. Why don't you tell me what he told you, and I'll say if he missed anything?"

"Because, as of late, it doesn't interest me. No offence intended to your person, or your adventures – _back home_ – but I am such a tired cat and I would enjoy a good snooze."

"Well, you interrupted _my_ sleep, so you unless you want to talk to me, you can leave."

"Your bed is _very_ comfortable…" He said petulantly, kneading his paws on the duvet in that strange way only cats can.

"I know, and I _was_ happily sleeping on it, until a certain Cheshire Cat came for a 'leisurely conversation'."

"Bloody woman…" He moaned, looking at me with sad eyes. I didn't buy it. "Tarrant told me that he likes it so much here, he doesn't want to go home. He recalled today's endeavours in fervent tones. And you know what else? He still didn't give me his lovely hat." He said, piqued. "And honestly, if there's anything else wondrous about here, I don't care to hear it."

"That's it. Kitties sleep on the floor." I said frostily, grabbing the sarcastic little creature and placing him on the wooden floor.

"_Please!_" He cried.

"And I'm pretty sure kitties don't speak." I said, getting back under the covers.

"This '_kitty_' does." He said, jumping back on the bed.

I put him back on the floor again. "_Bad_ kitties get left outside." I stared at him, a determined glint in my eye.

"So… your way, or no way?"

"That's right." I said, resting my head on the pillow and closing my eyes. I was sure I could feel a weight, as heavy as a very heavy cat, pounce on my ankles, but I was too tired to care anymore.

It was difficult to fall back to sleep after that unusual interruption. Eventually, I began to drift off, no longer bothered that Chessur was asleep at my feet. One eye fell shut, then the other, and my mind became a haze.

There was a loud yawn. "Tarrant told me about your mock sword fight. He told me you are quite the swordsman, though I have no idea how he became a valid judge, and I believe you already proved that with the Jabberwocky fight."

I sat up, furious and bleary-eyed. "Why?!" I exclaimed.

"Oh… what is the question now? I can only answer so many why's…"

"I just spent thirty minutes attempting conversation with you, and now, _now_ that I'm asleep, you want to talk?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Ugh!" I linked my hands together, to prevent them from strangling him. Or at least trying to. "If you're not going to be cooperative, I'll put you outside."

"I _can_ come back inside… but of course. I do apologize. Travelling does terrors to my sleep patterns, and I can be such a misery when I don't get my sleep… I sincerely did not wish to cause you to lose sleep, Alice. Would you like me to go, so you can get back to your dreams?" He asked, contrite.

"No!" I said, a little too loud and a little too quick. He'd just got here, and other than Hatter, he was my only connection to Wonderland.

He looked amused, or bemused; a mixture of happiness and surprise. "Alright. I do say, if I'm wanted here, I can stay."

"Good. Do you want to-" I started, but the odd way in which he tilted his head made me stop. One of his ears cocked up, and he closed his eyes, listening thoughtfully.

"Well… what do you know?" He said, grinning. He opened his eyes, and disappeared.

"Chessur!" I hissed, my words seeming tiny in the empty room. He was gone a good five minutes, where I just sat, completely still, unsure. Was he coming back? Eventually, I decided I would ask Hatter in the morning. I began getting back into the warm covers, when I saw a gray and blue ball resting on my balcony railings. A swish of a tail, and he pounced, dropping down the height of the building. "Chessur!" I cried, running toward the doors, throwing them open. I stood, resting my hands on the stone rails, peering over fearfully. Cats might land on their feet, but their feet can't be alright after jumping such heights.

A piece of large, white stone crumbled away under my hand, and landed with a thud and a pained howl. Oh, God. Not only had he jumped and probably broke a leg, I'd just bashed his head. "Chessur!" I whispered again, terrified. I rested my weight on the stone, trying to see him in the light of the moon. I saw a streak of silver, before it quickly disappeared. Unfortunately, 'light of the moon', referred to a pathetic slice, a tiny, dull crescent, so its illuminating skills were greatly diminished. I leaned further over the balcony, my slipper encased feet barely touching the floor.

I experienced one of those sensations; the slipping feeling, where you know you've made a grave error, but you are unable to right it. More of the rail crumbled away, sending me tumbling forward after it. I'd be lying if I said I didn't scream like a child. It was like falling down the rabbit hole all over again, yet less mystical and well… alright, there wasn't anything similar, other than the fact that I'd fallen, again. The dark environment rushed to meet me, until the ground began climbing up to me. I imagined my face slamming into the damp grass, so fearfully I closed my eyes and turning away, when I fell into bony twigs instead. No, not twigs, arms. I was sprawled face down in Hatter's arms as he struggled to stay upright under my weight. I gasped in shock and exertion, certain I had just been on my way to a broken nose.

Once I had regained my breath, I relaxed slightly, still not moving from his arms. Like Chessur had said about me, his arms were bony and uncomfortable to rest on… I gasped again, flustered, struggling my way out of his arms. The way I'd landed was awkward and rather… exposed. My knee was right in his face, and his other arm was – accidentally, of course – was not in a gentlemanly place of my torso. He let me go suddenly, noticing my discomfort, and set me on my feet.

I stepped away neatly, and sorted my rumpled nightgown, focusing intently on the fabric while I tried to regain my composure. It took longer than necessary, and I found when I looked up again, both Cat and Hatter were watching me amusedly. I fought off another blush, and turned to Hatter. "Thank you for catching me."

"It was all I could do, before you crushed the cat." He said, grinning. He reached up to tip his hat, before realizing it wasn't there. He dropped his hand to his side again, pouting slightly.

"Where is your hat?" I asked.

He reached up again, patting his head. "I don't rightfully know," He cried. He looked about himself desperately, and I realized that he wasn't in his tatty old clothes, but in gingham white and dark green pyjamas. There was an exasperated sigh from the ground below, and we both looked down quickly enough to see Chessur roll his eyes and disappear with a tiny 'bang'. He reappeared seconds later with the hat on his head. "There!" Hatter exclaimed, rushing to grab the hat.

"So, though I _found_ your hat, I _don't_ get to keep it?" Chessur groaned.

"Not a chance." Hatter said happily, fixing it back atop his head. "Now, Chess, did you have any reason, other than to gossip, for coming here?"

"…Miranda wanted to know how you were doing," The cat finally admitted.

"Ah, The White Queen! How is she?" Hatter asked.

"She misses you," He sighed. "Which is rather awkward, considering…" He trailed off, looking up at me.

"Considering what?" I asked.

"Well… considering _you_."

"What _about_ me?" I asked, curious, especially since he was being hesitant.

"Nothing! Nothing at all! Never anything of consequence to discuss between us three creatures of sentient." He said.

"Chessur!" I exclaimed.

"Byeeeeeee!" He smiled, fading away.

"Wait!" I yelled, but he ignored me.

"Hope you're happy together!"

I didn't take the trouble to correct him, especially since he was practically gone now. Hatter and I watched the space where the unusual cat had disappeared from, before looking up, like snapping back into reality.

There was a long silence, personally, I didn't have the slightest clue on what to say. I yawned loudly, covering my mouth quickly. A second later, Hatter yawned too. "I'm rather tired, actually," He remarked. "How do we get back in… there?" He asked, gesturing up to the balcony.

I turned, frowning up at the building. "Um…?" The wall wasn't flat, the bricks stuck out enough for a foothold, but I certainly didn't have the strength to pull myself up. "Well. It would be impossible to get back up there," I said, biting my lip thoughtfully. "And the front door will of course be locked shut…"

"Wait, here!" He called, standing by the building wall. I walked over, noticing he was standing in between balconies. He stooped slightly, twining his fingers, palms up. I skidded to a stop.

"Oh, no. Certainly _not_." I said, staring at his hands.

"Come on!" He said, shaking his hands. I took a hesitant step forward, and put a hand on the wall for balance. "Go on," He encouraged. I gently placed my foot on his hands.

"Wait, wait," I said, lifting my foot again. I fixed my slipper back on my foot, before placing it back.

"One, two, three!" He counted, before I put all my weight on him and pushed off. "Sproing!" He yelled eccentrically. I jumped higher than expected. Very high, in fact. I floated past the balconies, my slippers sailing up, nearly over the height of the door. As I dropped, I reached out to try get to the balcony. My nightgown still floated up, and I squeaked indignantly, forcing it down again. I grabbed on to the balcony, wincing as my shoulders jerked.

Eventually, I managed to pull myself up and be back at my own room balcony. I turned to look for Hatter, and found he was already standing on his balcony again. "What…? How did you-?" I asked, before shaking my head. "Never mind. I'm going back to sleep. Night." He only yawned in response. I stumbled back into my room, locking the balcony door behind me. Kicking off my slippers, I peeled back the soft covers to _finally_ get some sleep. And that was when my Mother knocked on the door.

"Morning Alice." She said chirpily. I groaned into my pillow. _Wonderful._

**Review, please? It'd be much appreciated, as I'm not happy with this chapter xD**

**Thanks for reading though! xxx**


	5. Chapter 5

_**Curiouser & Curiouser**_

_**Chapter 5 **_

I don't know how, but I managed to drag myself away from the comfort of my bed to begin the early arrived day.

Luckily, it was free of parties, gatherings, even visits from friends, as far as I could hope… I really wasn't in good form to force upon politeness and good nature, so others could judge me. My meeting with Chessur last night had certainly lightened the whole 'Hatter situation', and if I thought about it long enough, I could cast happiness on the ideas in my mind; but if I was honest, I _knew_ I was building up for a fall. He couldn't stay with Mother and I forever, and he certainly was incapable of having his own place… and even if he could, who would fund it? And what of; though I almost blushed at the simple thought; what of Hatter and I – our relationship? Were we simply friends, and I was looking too far into it, hoping for something more? Something that wasn't there? After all, _I_ was the one who kissed him first, back in Wonderland. I couldn't pretend it had never happened, even if it never crossed his mind again. And then, what about when we got back home? If Hamish had not interrupted, what then? Would he have kissed me, let the most important of emotions visible to me? What could a Mad Hatter see in me?

All this I considered while getting ready for the day. Thus far, I only had questions, ones that drove me to bash my skull with the heel of my hand in exasperation. The confusion over our relationship wasn't the most pressing matter, I decided. We were happy as friends, and whatever else didn't exactly need to be defined. Other matters, however…

I stepped out of my room, feeling fresh faced and awake, though inside there was still a torrent of deliberation. Sounds of breakfast floated up the staircase, as did the lazy scent of toast. I hurried down the stairs, hungrier than I had ever felt. I was welcomed by a scene that made me laugh in startled humour. Mother and Hatter sat across from each other at the smooth, dark brown dining table, and Netty, our only maid, wandered over to Hatter and set a couple of toasted slices of her homemade bread. He was still in the borrowed pyjamas, but he had his hat on, sitting jauntily atop his cloud of orange hair, while Mother had a clean, pale green dress on, her hair perfectly curled, and I was willing to bet she wore her corset and stockings, even to _breakfast_. Hatter had his back to me, so I walked around and took a seat next to Mother. To watch Tarrant Hightopp, The Mad Hatter eating toast. I guessed they didn't have it in Wonderland. He slathered the slice with sticky strawberry jam with so much enthusiasm, and inspected it in wonder when he didn't cover it. He crunched on it happily, as though it was the loveliest taste he'd ever had the privilege to experience. I smothered another giggle. And a cup of _tea_! His eyes seemed to widen every time he went to take a sip, as though it was the moment of great anticipation and excitement.

As I sat down across from him, he made a surprised sound, which might have been an 'Oh!' did he not have a mouthful of toast in his mouth. He held up a finger, to tell me to wait, and stomped his feet excitedly. I watched in confused amusement as he stood up and dashed away, still carrying the remainder of his bread slice with him. Mother sat, shaking her head in amazement. "His spirit… it's so like looking after a youth. It makes me almost nostalgic…" She smiled.

We both listened to the hasty sounds from above, and the loud, crashing sound of excited footsteps thundering down the stairs. Hatter appeared once more, hands behind his back.

"Now, it's not magical; it is very difficult to create magic here, not as much to create the magic, but just for it to retain it magical qualities, the magical qualities of magic itself. And even if it retains the magic, it is almost impossible to engineer them, refine them into the beauty of something truly magical." He babbled excitedly. "But, I have created it, thus I must reveal it to allow you to relish it or rectify it."

"Tarrant, what _do_ you have?" Mother asked curiously.

"I have…" He said dramatically. "A hat." He whispered, like disclosing a great secret. "A hat indeed. And it is a fine hat. A fitting hat. A hat described by words beginning with 'M'. Marvellous. Magnificent. Majestic. Momentous-"

"Let us see the hat?" I interjected.

"No!" He cried suddenly. "But you can't! Hats are worn first, inspected later," He began to take dramatically slow, measured steps around the table, and stood behind me. I felt him place the hat on my head, run back around the table, and inspect it. "_Magnificent_!" He exclaimed suddenly. Before he could protest, I took it off and turned it around to get a good look.

It was the shape and style of a sunhat, yet with a smaller, more formal diameter and a charmingly petite dome. It was obviously card, encased in a soft, cotton cream fabric. A large, pale blue bow of the same fabric rested on the dent between the diameter and the dome. It was plain, but it was indeed beautiful. Simplicity suited it, and matched my dress. "Oh, it _is_ magnificent!" I told him earnestly, inspecting every detail.

"Let me see, Alice?" Mother said. I turned, and put the hat back on. "How lovely!" She cooed, reaching up to straighten it.

"Thank you!" I exclaimed, standing to embrace him. He seemed taken aback, but returned my embrace. "Did you make that before?" I asked, meaning Wonderland.

He shook his head. "Last night; I had been intending to make you one, as nobody can go around without a perfect bonnet, but last night I finally finished." He grinned. A small, worried part in my mind wondered where he got the materials, and I opened my mouth to question, but thought against it. I'd rather not let my Mother know now that there might be large holes in the guest room bedding and curtains.

He sat down, and picked up another slice of toast and began enthusiastically devouring it. I smiled in amusement, delightedly touching the new hat. He finished the slice quickly, and looked up at me, judging my reaction. When he seemed satisfied that I really did like it, he smiled, relaxing slightly. He asked, "Are we going anywhere today? Shall we do anything?"

"There's nothing planned," Mother pensively sighed. "Oh! Alice?" She said, brightening suddenly. "Why don't you and I take Mr. Hightopp a tour around our gardens?" She asked.

It would have irritated me slightly, that she involved herself in the situation, as Hatter and I would have to limit what we said, regarding Wonderland, at least, but I realized that they were _Mother's_ gardens, her work, and she was very proud of it. Also, what else would she do in the day? I looked over at Hatter questioningly, and nodded at Mother. "Darling idea," I said. She smiled.

"Netty?" She called, and the maid wandered in, picking up our plates. I smiled up at her appreciatively; in reality, Netty was more of a friend to us than a maid, almost like a fond Grandmother. She appeared like one also, her greying brown hair escaped from a tight bun in wisps, and her face was wrinkled from laughter and happiness. She did housework out of choice and reaped the benefits; if she didn't want to help us, she was free to leave; Mother and I could handle our own chores.

"Then it's settled. But… Mr. Hightopp, you don't have any clean clothing for today, do you?" Mother asked. He hesitated, before shaking his head quickly. Her eyes brightened slightly, though she contained her excitement well, not wishing to appear like a whimsical girl. "You may borrow the late Mr. Kingsley's. It is already cleaned and ready in my quarters, I'll move the garments into your own quarters… and then we should attempt to find something fitting." She grinned.

Fifteen minutes later, Mother and I sat in Hatter's spare room. Or rather, I sat on the dressing table's chair while Mother made his bed again. Hatter was behind the dressing screen, a pile of meticulously folded clothing on the floor behind it. Mother sat down on the newly made bed, folding her hands on her lap. She had a childish glint in her eye, like the Hatter had become her new doll, since I didn't require her to choose my clothing anymore. "Are you quite done with the first outfit, Mr. Hightopp?" Mother asked.

He stepped out from behind the screen in a dark green suit. I didn't recognize it as my Father's, but it seemed like something he might wear, if I remembered correctly. Hatter bowed low, grabbing at his hat as it toppled from his head. He didn't manage to catch it on time, and it fell to the floor. He picked it up quickly, seeming uncomfortable without it on his head. A single bluebell was left, obviously fallen from the hat. He scrambled to pick it up too, and immediately put it under his hat once more. "Oh, marvellous!" Exclaimed Mother. "I didn't think it would fit – you are slighter in build, compared to my husband. How lucky they did fit!" She grinned, clapping once. "Try on the others, just to be sure." She asked.

Three drab, dull coloured suits later, Mother was convinced that they fit well, and that he suited him. I knew my opinion was wanted, but I didn't say anything; I only smiled and nodded when required. You see, they _did_ fit, and they did look good enough, they just… they didn't make him the Mad Hatter I knew. They were too plain, too uniform, too… Hamish. Clothing wasn't what made him the Mad Hatter, of course not, but it was very strange – not exactly a good strange – seeing him look so… normal. I preferred his patchy, peculiar old suit. I made a note to clean it later.

Despite my thoughts, Hatter seemed ecstatic. He examined the clothes with much the same delight as he had the toast. I supposed, this world was as new and amazing as his world was to me. He was in a neat, pinstriped navy suit, which didn't go particularly well with his hat, or his hair, but it was alright, on an impersonal level. He spun around a couple of times, before looking in the tall mirror on the wall. He pulled the lapels slightly, adjusted the collar, standing up straight like the normal gentlemen did. He turned back to us happily, and his face couldn't stop him being the Mad Hatter. Not for one minute. He smiled far too widely, far too earnestly to be any of the ordinary men. Their smiles were too false, and never _really very_ happy.

It was only around eleven when we were done, and ready to go into the garden. I should have known it like the back of my own hand, but it was as much of an adventure for me, too. I could hardly remember the garden. For years, when Mother had been working on its perfection, it had been _her_ place. Not that I wasn't allowed, I just didn't ever interrupt her careful escapism. I missed long, sunny days in the garden. Not that it was sunny often in London, but when it was, our garden had always been beautiful. It was sunny when we went outside, luckily. "Oh, look at the _fabulous_ weather!" Mother exclaimed, stepping out onto the porch. Hatter actually did peek his head out and look. "Come on, let me show you my work." She said, holding her arm out, and linking it through his. He raised his other arm, and I linked my arm through his, too. "Gracious! I do wish I'd could remember where my parasol was," Mother sighed, shielding her eyes from the sun.

"You should get a hat," Hatter said, exactly the same time as me, as I lowered mine over my eyes slightly. We all laughed. We walked lazily, taking in the environment. When we reached the first of the flower beds, Hatter unlinked his arms from us and sprung toward them. I could faintly hear him speak, "You don't talk? No words? Nothing to say here?" He laughed a little, not exactly happy. He turned to my Mother enquiringly. "Did you paint the roses yourself?" He asked. I had to restrain myself from groaning in exasperation. True, I had entertained the idea of painting flowers red, since I had visited Wonderland, but it was certainly not the done thing. Certainly not in rainy Great Britain.

"Pardon me?" My Mother said, amused, yet uncomprehending. I stared at him, silently willing him to look over at me, while stifling laughter. "I'm sorry, I didn't-"

She was interrupted by my laughter. "Tarrant! Don't make fun!" I cried, covering up. "Mother, I had just been telling Tarrant the yesterday; I was speaking to Lady Ascot, and humorously suggested she should paint her garden roses red. Tarrant was just trying to make fun of me, weren't you?" I placed – or rather, almost slapped – my hand on his arm, making him jump. I smiled up at him, asking him to play along.

He laughed slightly, confusedly. "But of course. I do apologize, Alice."

Thankfully, Mother wasn't paying attention to our terrible attempt at concealment. She narrowed in on one of the subjects she knew and understood, one she was comfortable talking about. "I _suspected_ Lady Ascot wanted red roses, rather than white! They appeared so out of place with the rest of her decorations, or rather, not out of place, but the whole thing seemed rather _bland_, colourfully speaking. Wouldn't you agree?" She said, crouching down to inspect her roses.

Hatter was nodding his head absentmindedly. I nudged him with my elbow, hoping he'd stop. It was one thing for my Mother to discuss others, especially people such as Lady Ascot, behind her back, it was something else to agree with her words. Laughing at a nasty remark about one so high in society could get you outcast from most social parties. Not that it bothered me all that much; it was just, he didn't know what he was agreeing about, and if I could help it, it was better to just stay the same, socially speaking. Status could get you a lot, or nothing at all. He stopped nodding, but nudged me back. Right in between the ribs, where it hurt. I choked back a yell, and got him back. He was startled, but got me back again, and within seconds it was a battle for supremacy.

Mother stepped away from her roses, and walked back up to link arms again, to begin walking. Unfortunately, Hatter had just dealt me a jam in the ribs that nearly left me winded, and vengeance was in obligatory. I leaned on my foot furthest from him, before pushing forward with a great _shove_. Like dominoes, we three fell sideways, into the rose bed. I laughed so hard I was coughing, choking, gasping for pained breaths. Hatter appeared to be in much the same state; when he moved so he wasn't leaning on my Mother, he remained sitting in the soil, holding his sides. My Mother was the only one who was not laughing. She wasn't the slightest bit amused, in fact, you might say she was rather furious, considering the state of my clothes, and Father's old clothes, as well as the roses we'd managed to crush. All of this, we two cackling geese remained oblivious to as we tried to get our breath back. I stood slowly, at the same time as Mother, and I put out a hand to help Hatter up, once I could breathe again.

Worse yet, rather than pulling him to standing, he pulled _me_ to the soil again. Face first. I screeched in surprise, before new laughter bubbled in my throat. I just couldn't take it seriously, despite my Mother's furious exclamations. "Alice!" She cried angrily, snatching me and pulling me back up upright. Luckily, she didn't fall; as otherwise, I think I would have died of laughter - literally. "For _Heaven's_ sake!" She cried. "Just look at your face!" She snapped, reaching into her little shoulder bag, and pulling out a mirror. I opened the cover, still shaking slightly with giggling tremors, to see my face, completely dusted with dirt. There was a thorn in my cheek, which was strange, considering I hadn't felt it pierce my skin. I could feel it now, and it really stung, sobering me slightly. I had big, pale streaks down my cheeks, where tears had ran. It was impossible to tell whether it was because of the thorn, laughter, or simply because when one's face collides with the earth it is not too pleasing a feeling.

Hatter stood up, still chuckling, till he caught sight of my face. "Alice!" He cried, shocked. I had managed to brush most of the dirt off with my hand, and was working the thorn out of my cheek. That too, is not a pleasing feeling. However, removing the muck had revealed something worse: a large, red mark on the bridge of my nose, slowly becoming a lump, and threatening to bring a large, purple bruise. Annoyed, I quickly grabbed the thorn and yanked it out. The cut began to weep blood, and I gasped in pain, wishing to do nothing but plug the thorn right back in there. "Here!" Hatter handed me a napkin. Oddly enough, one from our table at breakfast. I pressed it to the cut, staunching the blood, and began to scrutinize the growing lump on my nose. Yes, it would more than likely bruise, painfully. I looked over at Hatter and my Mother's panicked and horrified faces, and did the unexpected. I burst out laughing, just at their expressions.

Despite their protests and advice for us to stop and go back to the house, we carried on walking, this time not so close to each other. Mother walked in front, guiding us around, and I walked slightly behind her. Hatter was at the end. Though it was meant to be almost like a tour, we were all silent. I felt that was partly my fault, that falling had shaken and upset my Mother. After a while, she turned around, seeming tired. "That sun is really very warm," She remarked. "It's making me feel rather dizzy, I think I shall head back to the house for a cold glass of water." She seemed lost in thought, or just like she was trying not to feel ill. Tentatively, she began to walk back the way we came.

"Do you want to go back?" I asked Hatter, peeking at him from under my hand, shielding the sun from my eyes. We'd have to go back soon for lunch – it couldn't have been too far from twelve by then.

"Not yet, I want to see the rest of the garden," He said, smiling. "Unless you want to go back. I think you should go get that seen to," He said suddenly, meaning my bruise, or my cut, maybe both.

"No, let's finish off here first." I suggested. He shrugged, slightly nodding, so we carried on. I slowed down a lot of the time, even stopped, but he never seemed to catch up with me. Too caught up looking around to notice anything else, it seemed. I turned to look at him, expecting him to be looking around, staring in awe as a regular, non-talking fly, or something of the like flew past, but when I looked, he looked right at me, or he had been looking at me, and then he looked away quickly, his eyes darting around, unsure what he was looking at. It puzzled me slightly, but I didn't linger on it, rather, I stopped and waited on him. We walked together again, side by side. His silence was something else that surprised me. Other than a few strange suggestions and comments, he had been fairly… normal. Not a single Scottish outburst, or any other dialect, for that matter. I looked up at him in wonder, and saw that he looked red. I decided he must have been feeling the sun's heat too, like my Mother. I too felt dizzy, but again, I could credit that to the fall earlier. "Shall we go inside? You're looking rather warm, or tired, or-"

"Yes, okay," He said quickly. I reached for his hand, but as soon as I grabbed it, he slipped his hand away, not swiftly enough to appear offensive, yet it still was. I wiggled my fingers, confused and feeling slightly rejected. It was odd how earlier, we were joking around like friends, but when I even _attempted_ a friendly gesture, he snubbed it. I grimaced, bewildered and thoughtful.

We got to the steps, leading up to the porch. Scents of lunch already wafted through the open door. Hatter put his hand back in my own, and squeezed my fingers tight once. It perturbed me further, but really, could I ever hope to understand the mind of the Mad Hatter?

**First of all, sorry again for the delay between updates, but it's the holidays now, so I'll try update more often :D I'd like more reviews than people favouriting, :/ I can see all you favouriters, but I'd like something to read, too! :D **

**On a side note, there was something the Cheshire cat said that, though it made little sense, it spelt out something, not that important, but if it was in a film, it would have been very Cheshire cat, in my opinion :P if you see it, message or review or something :L just for funsies.**

**Anyway, hope you liked the chapter, & hope you review! :D xxx**


	6. Chapter 6

_**Curiouser & Curiouser.**_

_**Chapter 6**_

I clutched Hatter's hand all the way indoors, feeling oddly afraid that if I let go, I would not be able to reclaim it. That strange feeling outweighed my feelings of vulnerability; fear of rejection again. His hand was neither rough nor smooth, perhaps in between the textures. It was larger than my own hand, and grasped mine loosely, comfortably, like a glove. I hoped that meant he didn't mind the small gesture, but despite my mind's reassurances, I was quite shaken. I had thoughts as to _why_ he acted so, but they slipped out of my mind faster than I could snatch at them, like catching feathers in the wind.

We got inside, and I found my Mother in the kitchen, standing by Netty, who was finishing making lunch. Mother attempted a smile as she looked at us, but her eyes suddenly focused on our entwined hands. She frowned slightly, but didn't remark. "…Let's… let's get that cut on your face cleansed," She said, looking away, searching for a cloth. She had a certain distant tone in her voice, and I knew it wasn't because I had ruined some of her roses.

I walked toward her to stop her getting the cloth, but as I did so, my hand slipped from Hatter's again. I turned quickly, about to snatch for it, but I saw he was walking away. He turned and smiled slightly. "Here, let me see-" Mother said, turning my head to face her again. I struggled to turn, look at Hatter again, try comprehend him. "Here," Mother said, turning my head again, a bit rougher. She dabbed the soft cloth on my cheek gently, her face full of sharp lines. She was frowning, her lips drawn into a tight line. It made her appear very old. I averted my eyes, feeling sorry all of a sudden. "I didn't appreciate your silly antics in the garden, Alice." She stated.

I didn't even try to make an excuse for myself. "I'm sorry." I said, and I meant it. I looked at her, and saw her face soften. That just made me feel worse. She looked like she was ready to cry.

"I realize you are very happy to have your…" She paused, "Your friend here with you, but even the strangest of gentlemen do not appreciate a lady with such a ridiculous sense of humour. It makes them… fickle. Nonetheless, I am glad you are happy." The tearful expression returned. She was jealous. No, jealous was the wrong word, too malicious to express her emotion. She was wistful, wishing my Father was still around. It wasn't hard to see; before my Father, my Mother had been as unimaginative and plain as every other respected woman; set to find a husband, whomever they may be, preparing to please the gentleman. Without him, she was much the same, yet he had affected her in the same way a taste of Wonderland had affected me. "Oh, and Alice? I forgot to tell you-" She started, but I didn't hear the rest - liberated from the painfully cold cloth, I ran to the stairway and called on Hatter.

There was no response, so I ran up the stairs to look for him. Naturally, he was in the guest room. I poked my head in to peek at him, and saw he was sitting before the dressing table, staring blankly at his reflection. There was a melancholic tint to his features; it hurt to look at such a visible sadness. He didn't look at me, probably didn't notice me. I said, "Lunch is ready," And he jumped like the March Hare.

He was silent for a moment, thoughtful. "Will there be more of that ma-" He stopped, rethinking his words. "Will there be 'toast'?" He asked, brightening suddenly.

"Um, no. But there will be sandwiches, which are, what you could call… _raw_ toast. But we call it bread."

"What else is there? Is there tea?" He enquired, looking back at the mirror.

"Of course, there is tea." I grinned. "But you'll need to come down to see the rest, as I can't quite remember." Contradictory to my words, I walked toward him, and placed a hand on his shoulder, looking at the two of us in the mirror.

"_What an odd looking couple we are_," I thought in wonder, before I gasped aloud. For one, I had used the word _'couple'_, which we were most certainly not, not in that sense. Secondly, I hadn't just _thought_ it. I looked away quickly, biting my lip thoughtfully. It was ridiculous to hope he hadn't heard, yet there was nothing I could say to right it, without sounding like I'd mulled over the word too much. There was silence, and I didn't expect Hatter to speak. He didn't, and I didn't dare look at him, not even in the mirror.

Despite my embarrassing choice of words, it was true; we did look strange. Not knowing myself _or_ the Hatter, it would be hard to see how alike we were. How much our souls matched. I cringed again at the thought. Where were all these thoughts coming from?! Odd as the thoughts were, they were both true. What was very different in appearances was very similar in personalities. His image practically screamed 'otherworldly, interesting character', while I merely appeared to be a rebellious teenager. I chanced a glance at him in the mirror, deciding it would be worse if I acknowledged my embarrassment.

I looked into the polished silver, and spotted him through the looking glass. He wasn't looking in the mirror, he was just looking at me, his expression soft. He glanced at the glass and caught me staring, before his eyes quickly darted away, though he clearly knew he hadn't gone unnoticed. He had that same rosy tint to his face, like when we were in the garden, when he had too much sun… The Mad Hatter was blushing. Things were beginning to make sense; from watching me and Hamish dance at the party with an expression you could call 'jealousy', the unnecessary effort of creating me a beautiful hat, even the small things – a hidden bluebell in his hat, his effort to conceal the mad outbursts and conform.

I reached over and touched his hand lightly, meaning to hold it again. "Hatter," I started excitedly, elated by the revelation. "You- I…I-" I spluttered, words rushing out without thought, without meaning. Contrary to my thoughts, it wasn't that he was beginning to bore of me… but why would he have complete opposite reactions, if this was how he felt? That was the one thing I didn't understand. Adding to my confusion, he stood up and walked out the room, quickly, running away.

I stayed positively still on the bed, confused, yet my head pounded with thought. I had thought _he_ was being standoffish, was it the other way around? I had been trying to be friendly to him always, but perhaps – it clicked. It appeared one of the issues I had been mulling over this morning was at a crucial point. It could be sorted, either way. Time to stop the ambiguity. Hatter's feelings were very clear, exposed, and it was very cruel to not respond in kind. He didn't know if I felt the same or not, of course he would evade this moment, a proper rejection. I closed my eyes, swallowing my modesty, and ran after him.

I ran quicker than I had in a while, at least since I had been a child. There was no telling what Hatter might do, chagrined, with his peculiar mind. I flew down the staircase, thinking with a mad mind, and before I could even consider where the Hatter could be, I met a similar fate as he must have. I crashed into something very soft, large and round, something that wheezed, before belching a great laughter. "Alice! I don't know _what_ has gotten into you two today! Apologize to Mr. Crosby at once, and please, take your seat at the dining table." Mother scolded. I glanced up slowly, and was met by the small, black and beady eyes of Mr. Crosby.

"I-I'm… I'm very sorry, Mr. Crosby… I don't know _what_ compelled me to dash down those stairs, I… I do apologize." I blathered, trying to get a grip on the situation. I slowly walked away, into the dining room, to find Hatter sitting on his own, the table set out for six, not three. I ignored those details, and strode over to Hatter quickly, "Hatter, I-"

"Oh, how _marvellous_." A quiet voice squeaked. I turned on heel quickly, expecting to see Mallymkun the Dormouse, but I was instead face to face with a short, slim, squirrely woman. Mrs. Crosby. "Look at all _this_!" She squealed, taking in the dining room. She was being false, of course – they had similar, if not the same dining areas in their own manor, perhaps even better. "And look at _you_!" She exclaimed, looking at Hatter. "Who _are_ you?!" She cried pleasantly.

Hatter looked away quickly, before looking back, as though the woman was getting on his nerves. It wouldn't surprise me; she was infuriatingly loud and squawky. "I'm… I'm Tarrant Hightopp. Pleasure, splendour, wonder to meet you. Fabulous, wondrous, spectacular… but I don't know, you are?"

"_Me_?!" She yelled haughtily. "But of _course_, I am Madame Crosby! _This_ is my husband, Mr. Crosby, and our _darling_ son, Maxwell!" As if on cue, Mr. Crosby and their son entered the dining room, followed by Mother and Netty, carrying buffet plates.

I gave Mother a look as she entered, communicating silently 'why are they here?!' Her gaze flickered to the door. I followed her back out. "Why?" I hissed. It wasn't just the fact that she'd invited guests without telling me, at the least opportune moment, it was _who_ it was. She couldn't have invited worse guests in this situation. Or _ever_. I needed this moment to talk to Hatter, and I wouldn't get it, not in the presence of the Crosby's, and leaving would certainly cause a scene. They all loved the drama.

"They were passing by… their maid came up to the doors, to see if we would be happy for their company, and how could I decline? It wasn't any effort to set out extra places at the table for lunch," She explained. I still wasn't happy. "You look awfully restless, Alice, I-" She begun, but I shook my head.

I groaned, "It doesn't matter. We have guests to attend." And Mad Hatters to settle. I walked out, and found that our guests had already taken seats. Mr. and Mrs. Crosby sat next to each other, Mrs. Crosby across from Hatter, leaving one seat across from Maxwell Crosby and next to Mr. Crosby. In between Hatter and Maxwell was… my seat. I walked over, both anxious and uneasy at the same time. As I'd explained, Mrs. Crosby was short, thin, and looked very alike a squirrel. She had large, pale grey eyes and a small nose and mouth. Her hair was mousy brown, and tied into a tight bun. She was very loud and high pitched.

Mr. Crosby was very large – very wide and tall, with beady black eyes and piggish features. His hair was greying from black, yet meticulously combed back into place. He too was very loud, yet you could never quite understand his words, due to laughter, and a general warbling sound in his voice.

Maxwell, it appeared his parents had stolen his voice. A very shy, quite creature, very sweaty and nervous. He was thin faced like his Mother, but had the slight piggish look of his Father, and the same hair and eyes. All in all, the family was very unbearable. But I didn't care. I could have sat listening to Mr. Crosby choke out _very_ amusing stories about everyone he _knew_, or hear Mother and Mrs. Crosby converse about other people, and subjects that should interest me, but instead I concentrated on Hatter. It wasn't like I could reach out with my mind and talk to him, but I could almost feel the mood of his presence. It was a muddle of confusion, but that could have been me _or_ him. I glanced over, biting my lip nervously. He had a selection of everything on his plate, a full cup of tea at the side, yet he sat with the plate and cutlery untouched, gazing down at the food with a helpless look. It was definitely _his_ confusion, though I doubted the _food_ had his real concentration. I dropped my knife on the plate once more, and reached under the table with my right hand for his left hand. Rather than pull away, he let me hold his hand, however tense he remained.

"There are some sandwiches there," I said quietly, though it was unlikely we'd be heard over the Crosbys' incessant chatter. He smiled, still not looking at me, and picked up a sandwich from his plate, never letting go of my hand.

He brightened with every bite, smiling eventually. "Oh, these are marvellous." He smiled amicably.

"…Marriage…"

"Wonderful," He grinned, finishing it off.

"….wedding…" Words from other conversations spilled into our own, no longer ignorable. The two of us looked up to see the two Crosby parents and my Mother in serious conversation. I glanced over to Maxwell, to see he too was listening in. Hatter heard and understood first; his grip on my hand tightened almost painfully, before he let go entirely. I almost smiled in anticipation. I _knew_ what was to come next. As foolish as it was, I was hoping for an outburst from Hatter. It was positively ridiculous to hope for such a horribly strange thing, yet if – no, _when_, he surely would be annoyed at the prospect of them discussing my future, a future that didn't leave room for his involvement – he did lose his temper, there was no question, I would get _my_ Hatter back. Not this calm, uniform Mr. Hightopp with one pleasant accent and attitude, but the passionate, sometimes-Scottish, _raving_ Mad Hatter I knew. I looked at him when there was a delay. Nothing. He focused on trying new foods. He wasn't so selfish as to interfere in my future, not in that way. I scrunched my eyes shut in exasperation, listening to them discuss Maxwell and I. I certainly did _not_ want to marry Maxwell, and I wasn't going to.

"No." I said, standing up. "Mother, I apologize, but I can not sit and listen as you arrange yet another bachelor to marry me off to. Mr. and Mrs. Crosby, I'm sure you can see and understand I'm no great loss to your family. Maxwell, you will no doubt understand by now what is going on, and please, don't take offense, I just…" I winced at the awkwardness of the situation. "You're not my type," I finished. I sat back down again, and picked up my cutlery as though nothing had happened. There was a long silence, and I concentrated on my lunch, saving face.

When I finally looked up, they were all looking at me, except Hatter, and Maxwell. Maxwell hadn't been too fussed by my speech, he didn't know me, and I'm sure_ I_ wasn't his wife material either. Mr. Crosby looked painfully irked, and the two women looked shocked. Mr. Crosby shook his head, "I can't _believe_ you've let her grow up like this," He stated, clearly talking to my Mother. "How she races around this building – like she owns the place! Absolutely no regard. And you let her hang around with vagabonds such as _him_!" He cried, nodding toward Hatter, who didn't even raise his fluffy orange head. "She's bruised that face, how utterly wild she appears! And now… she talks like she is above everyone else! The girl needs discipline!"

Nobody responded to that, not even me, despite the fact that my blood was boiling in my veins, yearning to yell. There were plenty more things to worry about than Mr Crosby's pigheadedness and hideous thoughts. So long as no nuptials were considered between Maxwell and I. His opinion disclosed, Mr. Crosby looked back to his lunch with fervour. Mrs. Crosby stared at me for a while longer, before glancing at her husband and doing the same. "Tarrant," I said after a long time, after everybody had settled once more, starting to eat. "I need a word with you, in private," I sighed, looking over at him.

"Oh, but we mustn't leave during the meal," He exclaimed, staring back at me with wide eyes, willing me to quieten.

"Oh, but we must – it _is_ important." I laid a hand on the crook of his elbow, and pinched slightly. Reluctantly, he stood and walked away from the table, before turning and bowing at the remaining diners. I almost dragged the procrastinator away.

This roused a riled Mr. Crosby once more, "There she goes – everything that young Mr. Ascot says, it's all true! I apologize, Madam, about your daughter, and for being so forward with my opinions, but it is clear she is a troublesome one that needs some _sense_." Mr. Crosby said, and though I very much wanted to walk back and argue with him, even slap the large old fool, it pleased me to no end to have to restrain Hatter as he attempted to jerk from my grip.

Senseless swearing erupted from his mouth in fluctuating volumes, so Scottish I needed a translation for many words, not that I would want to know – the words I understood were bad enough. I tightened my grip on his arm, and leaned back on my heels to try to pull him out the room, regretting my selfish glee at his reaction. If you listened, it almost sounded like Hatter was casting a magical curse on Mr. Crosby; unintelligible words strung too close together, the occasional name flung in – childishly, I hoped that Mr. Crosby would suddenly turn into a pig. I chastised myself half-heartedly, and rested on my feet again, before falling back so hard both Hatter and I flew out the room.

Once we were out of the terrible atmosphere of lunch, finally alone, I found I didn't know what to say. I looked up at Hatter. He was red in the face, out of annoyance this time, and his eyes were wild, illuminating the unusual colour in his eyes, his hair seemed static, even more untamed; he was a tempest. A swirl of madness and passion; the Hatter I knew and wanted. Yet I couldn't say_ that_, and I could not articulate anything else. "I- I apologize. That was terribly unnecessary of me to react in such a way, I'm afraid I have possibly made things an awful lot worse." He said, trying to appear a calm gentleman, though his eyes widened randomly through his words, like he was holding himself back, which of course, he was.

"What do you _really_ want to say about that? Please, don't lie," I said.

He blinked once, quickly. "He is a truly awful person, I don't believe he is good company."

"Once again, _don't_ lie to me."

He stared at me in deliberation for just a second, before; "I _hate_ him! He's nasty, rude, cruel, smug, arrogant, vile, hideous, misogynistic, crude-" He paused for breath, "horrible, malicious, malevolent…_boorish_."

I raised an eyebrow, on the edge of laughter. "'_Boorish_'?" He nodded, a serious expression on his face. I laughed, though I was thinking of ways to angle the conversation back to its original purpose. "Don't ever change," I said, sobering. He shook his head, agreeing with me happily, until he registered my tone, and looked at me, and looked away again quickly. "Hatter?" I said quietly, completely unsure of where I was going with this. He looked up, but never focused on me, once again becoming closed off to me. "What are you thinking?" I sighed. "You're normally so _open_, I can almost read your thoughts…"

"Later, not now, not presently, in the near future," He sighed, looking at me.

I shook my head. "You're not _that_ closed off to me – that was a blatant lie. Please, talk to me," I insisted.

He looked deep in thought, and I realized how cruel I was being. If he had asked _me_ to articulate my feelings for him, if the truth was obvious, I would have closed up. It's horrible really, how difficult it is to tell someone how you feel, without getting embarrassed, feeling vulnerable. Vulnerable. _Let yourself be vulnerable_.

Just like I had back in Wonderland, yet with less reckless abandon, I stepped forward and leaned in toward him, on my tiptoes. Only, I didn't kiss him. I stood as close as possible without actually touching his face. His eyes widened at the sudden closeness, but I didn't flinch; internally I praised myself. "This isn't bold, thoughtless affection. This is how I feel, it's up to you to respond, or run."

"You…" He started, shocked. Then he laughed self depreciatingly, almost miserably. "No, you don't, you couldn't-"

I silenced him by leaning forward and kissing him lightly, just a peck. When I leaned away again, he rocked back on his heels, but didn't step away. "That's mad – even to me…" He said, wide eyed.

"So what will you do?" I asked, still rather confident about the whole matter.

He shook his head, grinning like this was all very mad. "You bloomin' well know what I'm going to do," He said, inclining toward me. It was a soft, gentle kiss, conveying emotions in a way no words could. It was by no means love, but it was pretty close. After all, I – _we_ – lived in a world where we were meant to take spouses that would benefit you and your family socially and financially, without any real attraction. There was nothing wrong with kissing, being attracted to those you _weren't_ married to, considering I did not plan to be wedded off in the near future, no matter how many young gentlemen my Mother threw at me. However, it was no news to me that others would not have the same thoughts on the matter.

Naturally, that was the precise moment my Mother decided to come check on us.

**Ugh. I've said this a lot, but I re-he-he-heaaaaaaally don't like this chapter (The 5 syllable 'really': hi-5 Scrubs fans! :D) **

**& the Cheshire Cat's little phrase... Meh. I was messing around with the thesaurus - '_A_bnormal _l_ittle _i_ncidents _c_ontrol _e_verything. _K_eeping _i_diosyncrasies _n_ormal _g_ets _s_omeone _l_ittle _e_njoyment _y_ieldingly, Alice Kingsley' It's fun.. in a sad, nerdy way... :/ xD**

**Ohoh! & in Miss Selfridges clothing shop I saw a lovely white vest top - 'Curiouser and Curiouser' was written on it :D I was going to buy it, just for the 'hey, my story is famous-it has a TSHIRT!' but that too, would be losery :/ ...plus, they didn't have my size D:  
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& one last point! :D I have a proper plot - I completely know where this is going! :D & what an idea, it shocked me O_o I think i wrote this chapter crap cause I can't wait to write my new idea :L I'll try speed things up? :/**

**Anyways, review, cause you're fab like that :D xxx**


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